Page 131 of The River We Remember

“If Tyler comes back here, I hope you’ll let me know. This is already way out of hand, Velma.”

“I said goodbye to my son a long time ago. The man he is now is a stranger to me, and I don’t care about him one bit.”

AT THE MADISON house, Brody found Wendell Moon sitting in a chair on the front porch, strumming a guitar.

“Sheriff,” the man greeted him.

Brody listened for a moment as Wendell played. “Don’t know that one.”

“Big Bill Broonzy tune. ‘Looking for My Baby.’ You find them boys?”

“Not yet.”

“How ’bout that Creasy fella?”

Brody shook his head.

“Big place, Black Earth County.”

Brody nodded toward the house. “You acting as sentry?”

“Something like that. Seeing me here, I figure it might make a man think twice if he’s got no good on his mind.”

“Thanks, Wendell.”

The man shrugged and went on playing.

The front door opened, and Angie stepped out with a glass of iced lemonade in her hand, which she offered to Wendell. He laid the guitar beside his chair and took the glass.

“Thank you, Angie.”

To Brody, she said the obvious: “You didn’t find them.”

“I just came from Creasy Hollow. We got a call that the boys were out there.”

“Doing what?”

“They had a gun, Angie. Made threats.”

“A gun? Where would they get a gun?”

“It belongs to Tyler Creasy. The boys were looking for him.”

“What happened?”

“According to Velma, they took off on Del’s motorbike.”

“Headed where?”

“She didn’t have a guess. Or at least one she was willing to share.”

“Oh, God, Brody. What do we do?”

“You just keep doing what you’re doing. The state patrol is watching the main highways for Creasy. I’ve got the sheriffs’ departments in all the adjacent counties here in Minnesota and in Iowa patrolling the back roads. We’ll round up Creasy and we’ll find the boys.”

“I don’t understand, Brody. This isn’t like Scott at all.”

Wendell said, “To him and Del this probably feels like war.”